The Great House Chase

Two Austin Monthly editors are on a quest to find their dream homes. Will they both succeed? Follow their emotional journeys as they navigate Austin’s ultracompetitive housing market.

By Gene Menez and Sarah Thurmond

Published: June 27, 2013

Illustration by Darren Gygi

Rocky Road

After living in New York City for 18 years, UT alum Sarah Thurmond moved back to Austin in 2010 and got a senior editor job at Austin Monthly. Three years later, the single native Texan is looking for her first house.

As I type this, I’m dealing with the emotions that follow the news that once again my offer on a house was not accepted. This is the fourth time a seller has gone with someone else. This time really stings, though, because this time I was being considered. In the other cases, I wasn’t even close to being in contention. Now, all sorts of thoughts are running through my mind: Will I ever find a house? Is this the universe’s way of telling me I’m not cut out to be a homeowner? Am I not ready to grow up?

That is, after all, one of the reasons why I wanted to buy a house. After living my adulthood in apartments, I made a decision last summer to become a responsible human being. I figured it would be easier than having a baby, but after nine months of hunting, looking at nearly 50 homes, I’m starting to rethink my decision.

So, with the money I inherited from a family member, I could make an investment in my future and put it toward a down payment on a home. But unbeknownst to me, I’ve hit one of the worst housing market periods for a buyer in recent history. With an estimated 150 people moving to Austin every day, plus an unusually low house inventory, it’s no wonder it’s been such a struggle.

My hopes that I would find something fairly quickly were raised upon meeting Brandi Weber, a realtor at Turner Residential. I met her at a party thrown by a coworker who used Brandi as her realtor. She found a really cute, move-in-ready South Austin “ranchette”-style home on the very first day of her house hunt. Surely the same luck would fall on me.

After conducting some preliminary research online, my hunt officially kicked off last July, when I sent an email to Brandi. She told me my first step was to talk with a lender. “This will give you a ballpark range for what you can spend, and it will also give you an idea of what kind of loan you will qualify for (rate, terms, etc...),” she said in her response.

I scheduled an appointment with one of her recommended lenders and learned that my credit was great and that I could go as high as $250,000. He advised me to start with prices lower than that in case I needed some negotiating wiggle room. Then he sent me on my way, telling me to have fun looking at houses.

Brandi went through the home-buying process in great detail and gave me a folder containing, among other things, information about property insurance and a glossary of realtor terminology. Then we got into the fun part: What was I looking for? I wanted a three-bedroom, two-bathroom house in South or East Austin that was move-in ready (no fixer-upper for me). Of course, after a few too many hours watching HGTV, my dream house also would have hardwood floors, stainless steel appliances and an open concept. But, realistically speaking, I knew that not every item on my wish list would be handed to me in a pretty package.

Soon thereafter, my inbox began receiving automatic emails from the Multiple Listing Service (MLS). This is a daily status report of homes for sale in my neighborhoods of interest. I could browse through the listings, look at photos of the interiors and pick homes that looked promising.

On the first few outings with Brandi, I went in with low expectations and an open mind. I wanted to get a sense of what was out there and see how houses compared in my price range of $180,000 to $230,000. I also needed to get acquainted with unfamiliar neighborhoods. (Who knew there were so many streets in South Austin named after Civil War battle sites?) But most importantly, I needed to gauge what I liked and disliked.

I began noticing patterns. Homes built in the 1980s and ’90s seemed to be all about stone-tiled flooring, ornate fixtures and vaulted ceilings, while older homes had smaller rooms and quirky features. (Is that a built-in hamper? Neat!) I found myself adoring older, fully revamped homes and dismissing the ones with “good bones” because of the dreaded renovation project I would have on my hands.

Shortly into my search, I fell in love with a fully renovated ranch-style house on Stone Gate Drive. It also happened to be on the far edge of the East Side—a nightmare commute for me (Austin Monthly’s offices are in Westlake), plus the neighborhood didn’t feel safe. I decided not to put an offer on it, but that house—and a few others—has lingered on my mind ever since. Could that have been the one?

After a few months and seeing all kinds of homes (even one that had a Jacuzzi in the middle of the living room), my hopeful outlook began to dissipate. I couldn’t see potential behind the popcorn walls and ceilings. My picky nature was in full force, and so was my concern about what I was getting myself into.

At one point, Brandi and I had a serious heart-to-heart talk. I told her I was starting to question this whole homeownership business. She said that was a very common feeling and one I should really contemplate. I sensed that she was starting to feel frustrated with me—or maybe I was projecting my own frustration with myself. I think part of my dilemma was due to the fact that I was doing this all on my own. I’ve never been very good at making big decisions. Even though Brandi was holding my hand throughout this process, in the end, it’s my choice to make. It’s a scary place to be.

By February, I was feeling pressure to find something because I noticed there weren’t as many pages to flip through on the MLS emails. Brandi said the housing stock was lower than she’s ever seen it during this time of year. Home prices also seemed to be creeping up. Then, suddenly, a house on Blarwood Drive showed up that was perfect for me—and about a dozen other buyers who also put offers on it. It went to someone else, fast.

By spring, the situation was getting worse. I extended my apartment lease for another six months, and Brandi told me about a house with 20 offers on it that sold for $50,000 above the listing price. I can’t compete with that! I started thinking strategically and putting offers on a couple of houses that didn’t give me that loving feeling, but that I could fall into deep like with eventually. Both were dismissed.

Finally, in May, I found a house on Emerald Forest Drive that had almost everything on my checklist and only a handful of offers on it. It felt like the odds were turning in my favor. This time I got serious and offered about $15,000 more than the listing price.

The next day, Brandi called to say the sellers were considering me, but there was a similar offer from another buyer. The seller was wondering if I would pay the difference up front if the appraisal came in lower than the listed price. After discussing it with Brandi, we decided I would pay up to $10,000.

The next morning, I got an email from Brandi: “Just got the call, and they have decided to work with another offer.” I was crushed, but all I could do was keep looking.

If you think this has been like dating for me, you’re right. And, like dating, I’m determined to not get too discouraged by rejection. When Brandi and I had our serious talk, I told her that with each house I saw, I felt like I was getting closer to the home of my dreams. Until I find it, I’m going to settle into my apartment, spruce it up a little and wait for the right house to come along eventually.

Editor’s Note: Just before this issue went to press, Sarah had a fifth offer on a home get rejected. Finally, her bid on a sixth house was accepted, and almost a year after starting her search, Sarah is scheduled to move into her new home this month.

Family Matters

Like Thurmond, Gene Menez is a UT grad who moved to NYC after a few years in Arlington. He returned to ATX in October, and now the new Austin HOME editor and his wife are searching for a house for their growing family.

We had seen more than 30 houses—old and new, big and small, from North Austin to South Austin—in search of the perfect house. My wife, Karen, and I believed we were this close to finding our home. But on the morning of March 15, after visiting another house that “wasn’t just right,” the man we had taken along on this hectic house hunt, realtor Tomas Corzo, told us that we weren’t close at all.

“The two of you need to sit down and determine what you really want,” he said. It was the real estate equivalent of the father-son talk, but he was right: How did we get here?

Rewind 112 days, to when this process began, in November 2012. Karen and I knew that buying a house would test our marriage because of the different ways we approach major purchases. I am an uber-researcher who will log onto Consumer Reports and spend hours investigating the best products before doing a Google search to find the lowest price—all to save $5. Karen, on the other hand, is an impulse shopper who two years ago bought a pair of $300-plus Lucchese boots. They’ve been worn only once since.

Further clouding matters was that Karen was pregnant with our firstborn. She had set a quasi deadline for us to be moved out of our apartment and into a house long before her due date of June 25.

Karen and I met Tomas through a friend. We learned that in 2012 he ranked in the top 8 percent of Keller Williams realtors in the region that includes Austin and was a UT grad, avid cyclist and triathlete. Being a UT grad, avid cyclist and (failed) triathlete myself, I figured we were a perfect match. (In hindsight, this was not the way to select a realtor, but we lucked out with Tomas.)

Then we gave him our criteria: We wanted a house in a family-friendly neighborhood with great schools. It needed to be move-in ready and have an open floor plan. With our budget of less than $425,000, West Lake Hills and its great schools were out of the question, so we focused on three areas: Circle C, Steiner Ranch and Northwest Austin.

Our hunt began by attending open houses without Tomas, just to get a sense of the market. The first was a one-story in Circle C with mirrored walls in the dining room. The best part of the house was the free cookies. That same weekend we visited a new master-planned community on Highway 71. We loved the idea of new construction and being able to choose the floors, countertops, etc., but there was no neighborhood there yet, one of our biggest criteria.

The first house we saw with Tomas was one that Karen found in the Canyon Creek subdivision in Northwest Austin. We loved the neighborhood—a quiet, tree-lined slice of peace with parks and great schools that Karen called “Pleasantville”—and she would’ve made an offer on the house, but it needed too many upgrades. When we learned the following week that there was a contract on the house, I reassured her, “It wasn’t perfect.”

A few days later, we found a four-bedroom in the Cuernavaca area of Austin. We knew nothing of the neighborhood, except that it was zoned to the great Eanes ISD, so we asked Tomas to show it to us. The house was great, but, because there are few restrictions on homeowners, we saw some unusual things: a neighboring house with multiple boats parked in the front yard and another house featuring a totem pole. It was the epitome of Keep Austin Weird, which is great—just not for our boring suburban sensibility.

We continued to visit open houses. The best was a renovated ranch-style home in an area zoned to the excellent Anderson High. The house looked as if it had been redone by HGTV, and the snotty realtor knew it. She said, “We have received a lot of interest so if you want the house, you’ll have to make an offer by noon tomorrow.” She didn’t hear from us.

There was the “Pilates house,” the mirrored upstairs living area was perfect for a Pilates studio; the “bowling alley house,” the formal living room was long and narrow; and the “bathroom break house,” the listing agent wasn’t there to open it on time, and when we walked in later, he came out of the bathroom. No, no and definitely no.

The month of March arrived, but still no home. The pressure was building. Then Tomas showed us the “wine cellar house,” a 3,400-square-foot, four-bedroom in Steiner Ranch that was way more home than we needed. Karen, who loves to have a glass of wine when she’s not pregnant, saw the huge wine cellar and said, “My heart may have skipped a beat.”

All I could think about was how much the electric bill would be to keep the cellar cool and dry.

This was the best house we had seen in our three-plus months of hunting, but it wasn’t perfect to me. Karen, on the other hand, was tired of looking at houses. With the quasi deadline in her mind quickly approaching, she was ready to make an offer.

Luckily, after some discussion, I convinced her that this wasn’t the home for us. We asked Tomas to show us another house in Steiner. Once again, the house was close but just wasn’t right. The downstairs living area was too small, and the upstairs living areas were too big. It was after this visit that Tomas gave us the wake-up-call talk.

More than 30 houses in 112 days. We felt as if we were close to finding a house, but Tomas’s talk made us think otherwise.

The following morning we awoke and checked the new listings online. And there it was: a four-bedroom house in “Pleasantville” with an open floor plan, a large kitchen and—best of all—a screened porch that served as an amazing indoor-outdoor living area. There was even a pool.

Tomas got us into the house that afternoon, and we immediately knew we wanted it. The details that we couldn’t see online were all impeccably done. We told Tomas we wanted to make an offer, and he learned that the homeowners, who had only listed the house the previous day, already had an offer and two more were coming in. In addition, the owners wanted all the offers by 7 p.m. so that they could make a decision that night.

The next five hours were a blur of digital paperwork as Tomas assembled our bid. The key was deciding how much to offer. With three other bids, we felt almost certain that the winning bid would be more than the list price. So we offered $2,500 over list … and then a little more … and then a little more.

To complete our bid, we included a letter to the homeowners. In it, we complimented them on their beautiful home, told them a little about ourselves and spelled out how, if chosen, we planned to stay there for 20-plus years to raise our family. And then we waited.

After a few hours, the phone rang. It was Tomas, who started hemming and hawing: “I just heard from the seller’s agent … he said the decision came down to you and one other offer … it was very close … but … you got the house!”

At that moment, I jumped off the sofa and screamed so loud that I could be heard down the halls of our apartment building. That feeling was probably as close to the feeling of winning an Academy Award as Karen and I will ever get.

The closing process was as smooth as one could have. The funding (which we had done well in advance), the inspection and the appraisal all sailed through without any hold-up. We were homeowners at last. Turns out, we knew what we wanted after all—it was just a matter of finding it.